89 
A PLEA FOR THE BIRDS.* 
Does it never strike you, ladies, 
As your plume-trimmed hats you buy, 
That for each one of those feathers 
Some maimed bird has had to die ? 
That for every spray-tipped bonnet 
That so heedlessly you wear. 
In an act of cruel slaughter 
In effect you’ve had a share ? 
You may plead you didn’t know it. 
That, by Fashion’s laws coerced, 
You’ve unwittingly offended. 
Have but thoughtless been at worst ; 
But, oh, surely when we tell you 
What this feather craze implies. 
It no longer will find favour 
As it now does in your eyes. 
When you know that birds are butchered 
By the thousand every spring. 
Ere as yet their callow young ones 
From the nest have taken wing; 
When you know those helpless young ones. 
Of their mother’s care bereft. 
To die slowly of starvation. 
Are most mercilessly left ; 
When you know such cruel torture 
Must too certainly be borne. 
Ere the tufts prescribed by Fashion 
Can on your new hats be worn ; 
Surely, then, you, too, will join us. 
Such a practice to deplore. 
And will vow, for very pity. 
You will feathers w’ear no more. 
It is no great thing we ask you. 
For still charming you would be 
Though no heron’s plume nor osprey’s 
On your bonnets we could see ; 
But, indeed, if you continue 
Still such plumage to esteem. 
What has hitherto been thoughtless 
Will intensely heartless seem. 
* It is some time since these lines appeared in Truth, but the necessity for the 
appeal contained in them has not appreciably diminished. We therefore reprint 
them in the hope that they may attract the attention of a fresh circle of readers, 
although it may seem like preaching to the already converted.- — E d. N.N. 
